


Affirmations

by Samur_Umlal



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, Insecurity, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Romantic Friendship, wildehopps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8147926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samur_Umlal/pseuds/Samur_Umlal
Summary: One-shots featuring reassurance and kindness and other things that don't happen often enough.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to take a break from my somewhat dark 10-97 to write something cute and nice.
> 
> Taken in continuity with 10-97, this works as a small prequel. I might write one or two other thematically-related one-shot chapters.
> 
> Enjoy this story where nothing bad happens!

An impertinently hot mid-morning sun burned down on the pavement of the Beach Promenade. It was an upscale part of Sahara Square--cars and clothes more expensive, storefronts more elaborate, and mammal’s snouts angled just a few degrees higher. It was also, perhaps not coincidentally, the site of Nick’s favorite cafe.

Judy Hopps grumbled as she banged her tiny body out through the large glass door, hopping quickly to the side to dodge the same door again on the backswing. She stumbled, nearly losing control of the cardboard coffee tray she was carrying in both paws as the door clipped her tail.

Embarrassed, she glanced around, but nobody seemed to be taking much notice of her. The Promenade regulars--immaculately attired antelopes, camels, and desert cats--existed largely on other strata. Little gray country bunnies in mismatched flannel were beneath mention.

Judy shook off the thought. Her eyes traced down the row of gleaming cabriolets and luxury cars parked streetside until they found what she was looking for: the rusted-out orange Lobo van with a tacky airbrush job, offending the sensibilities of the locals by its very existence. The bunny smiled involuntarily. Nick had borrowed the van from Finnick after a first visit to Judy's apartment. He had, after seeing her meager accommodations firsthand, insisted on taking her to Targoat for a mini fridge and “like, even just a chair.” His words. She'd offered to pay him back in coffee, and here they were.

She had to set the coffee tray down and leap up to yank the old van's passenger door open; no help was forthcoming from within. Easing the tray up onto the seat and hopping up after it, she soon found the reason: Nick Wilde, her partner and best friend of a year and change, was fast asleep in the driver's seat, a pair of knockoff Wayfarers slid haphazardly over his eyes.

“Hey, Nick.”

No answer.

“Nick. Nick. Niiiick.”

She poked his forearm, then shoulder, then face, with a small paw. Still no response. She was half-convinced he was faking, at this point.

With a sigh, she squeaked a coffee cup free of the tray and wiggled it under his snout, letting the scent drift up into his sensitive nose. He stirred, emitting an almost inappropriate moan of satisfaction that turned into a toothy yawn halfway through.

“Rise and shine, slick,” said Judy, with drawing the cup and fitting it in a cupholder for him. “Your meter’s going to run out.”

“Oh, no,” he mumbled blearily. “I hope there's not any...meter maids around here.”

“Nick.”

“Especially not any _cute_ l--”

She punched him.

“ _ Ow _ , for the--okay, okay. I'm up,” he groused, pulling the sunglasses off his face and jamming his eyes open and shut a few times. “Most people wouldn't put up with this kind of adorable--ow--abuse. The doctor asks me about the bruises. I told him I fell down the stairs.”

“That's not funny,” Judy observed. The fox grinned impishly.

“It’s a little funny.”

But she didn't smile, and he sat back in his seat, checking the sunshades and mirrors on the van. Judy stared at her feet for a few beats before looking at him again.

“Nick, can I ask you maybe a weird question?”

“Shoot, partner,” he said easily.

Judy bit her lip. “Am I, like. Pretty?”

His ears twitched a bit, but his answer was flip and immediate. “'Course you are, Carrots.”

“You didn't even  _ look _ at me.”

“Don't gotta. I already know you're gorgeous, fluff.”

“Nick, I'm  _ serious _ .”

He abandoned his superfluous inspection of the tachometer to look her in the face, smirk starting to fade.

“Look, Carrots, am I the guy to ask? I don't know what it matters what some old fox thinks.”

“You're not  _ old _ . And of course I care what you think. I've seen your exes on Muzzlebook. I know you have good taste.”

He gave her a look. “Well, uh, setting aside your Muzzlebook stalking for a second. Do you not like how you look, Carrots?”

“I mean,” she floundered. “I never really thought about it? I'm just my face. I guess I spent so much time studying and running around and thinking about, you know, being a cop. But when I think about it, I don't know, my teeth are kinda crooked, my fur is this boring gray. Not like, red, or or--”

“Bad news, fluff, you're a bunny. You don't get the red fur without the beatings and the refused service and all that stuff.”

She winced. “Sorry.”

“Forget it,” he said waving it aside. “So...did something bring this about?”

She didn't answer for a moment--an unusuality for a Judy, and his eyebrows went up.

“What's up, Carrots?”

She shrugged, looking away. “It’s nothing important. Silly thing, just--the rabbit who served me the coffee was, cute, I thought, and...and I tried to chat him up I guess? And he was just really...disdainful and rude. And everyone around here seems really...I don't know. I felt kind of frumpy and, look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you all this. Oh my gosh.”

She attempted to bury her face in uncooperative small paws.

“No, that's--that’s fine,” the fox assured her. “I'll tell you what, Carrots, you're half right.”

She peeked at him from behind a paw. “Half--?”

“Sure,” he answered, slumping back in his seat and waving a paw to encompass the busy streets around them. “These mammals  _ are _ disdainful, and rude, and superior, and a few other things besides. I should know, I stole from them for years.”

Righteous outrage filled her tiny bunny heart. “ _ Nick _ !”

“Up to, and not beyond, whatever day would put me beyond the statute of limitations,  _ Hopps _ .”

She punched him, but not so hard this time.

“And as for the other half--ow, by the way--I wasn't kidding before, Carrots. You're very beautiful.”

She searched his face for traces of reading, but found nothing but the gentle-eyed, unguarded Nick that always surfaced in times of need.

“Really?” she asked, just to hear him repeat it--not so sure why it meant as much to her as it did.

“What, you need a list? You have lovely eyes. And a great smile. Your fur is gorgeous, it’s like, salt and pepper, like a wolf’s. You've got those little black ear tips, too--great choice, incidentally, very fox-like--and, I mean. You're in great shape, no offense. Stop me any time, please.”

He faltered, although Judy hadn't stopped him, because she'd instead drawn an ear around to cover her mouth and nose, blushing furiously underneath.

“And,” Nick rallied, “if these mammals want to judge you because you dress like you grew up working for a living, that says more about them than you. So.” He fell silent again, looking embarrassed and self-satisfied all at once.

“Nick, that was...really sweet,” Judy said at last. “I didn't know you thought that.”

“Yep. That's what your fox friend thinks. For whatever that's worth.”

She clambered across the emergency brake to hug him around the middle. “It's worth a lot.”

“Not so tight, please, I'm sore from being punched repeatedly. By someone.”

“Don't be a wimp,” she laughed into his shirt. “Thanks, Nick.”

“I just call ‘em, Carrots. I didn't choose to get partnered with the second-prettiest mammal in the Z.P.D.”

“ _ Second _ prettiest?!" she demanded, abandoning the hug. "Who--wait. it’s you, isn't it?”

The fox tapped his snout in affirmation. Judy laughed again, then stood up and delivered a chaste peck to the tip of his nose before hopping back to her seat. She gave him a big, ingratiating smile.

“So, Nick, I think we were going to get a fridge?”

“Uh, right! Yes. Fridge. Let's do that.”

The fox reached for the coffee she’d brought him and chugged a good half in one go before setting it down and turning the key in the ignition, rattling the van to life. Judy sipped her own drink--a sugary chai concoction--and tried not to think much of the fizzy feeling in her stomach.

It wasn't such a bad feeling, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick spends an evening alone at Judy's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place before 10-97 in continuity (which I promise I'm still working on).

Nick's phone buzzed, skittering across the tiny desk. He picked it up.

 

_ Still here im so sorry _

 

Another text from his partner. Hours earlier, at the end of their shift, they'd had plans to watch movies and catch up on paperwork for the week's cases. At the eleventh hour, Bogo had roped Judy into something new. It had only been supposed to take another hour or two. Judy had given Nick her apartment key so she could catch him up later, and he'd taken their reams of paper with him.

 

Now, it was approaching 1 in the morning, he'd finished his work and gotten through the lion's share (as it were) of Judy's. Movie night was probably off the table.

 

His phone buzzed again.

 

_ Almost done i think talking to bogo _

 

_ Take your time,  _ he texted back magnanimously, because it wasn't her fault and he was beyond caring at this point. He took the time to finish up her paperwork, minus the signatures and initials and more important statements--careful not to violate the spirit of the law, at least. Neither of them was a stickler for rules, but the rabbit liked to do the right thing.

 

He put the pen down and pushed Judy's tiny chair onto the two back legs, stretching and gazing around the apartment. It was cramped but livable, with an immaculately-made bed, an old-fashioned radiator heater under the window, a microwave, and an electric teapot, the latter two she seemed to have furnished herself.

 

There was no bathroom but the shared one down the hall, something that had irked him since he’d first seen where she lived. Judy, though, seemed to have no issue. Despite her inclination to modesty, she had grown up in a family of several hundred. Concessions had to be made.

 

He picked up his phone on a whim, and it vibrated, sure enough, against his paw pads.

 

_ DONE DODODOENE ON MY WAY <3 _

 

Nick smirked and began to tap back an acknowledgement when a peal of thunder rattled the window. He jumped, throwing the chair off balance and tumbling onto the floor.

 

A moment later, a dull roar grew into a cacophonous splatter of rain against the window. More thunder rolled across the city, the skyline backlit by lightning against the rain.

 

Nick received another text.

 

_ OMG _

 

Then, a moment later,  _ ARE U KIDDJNG ME _

 

He stayed on the floor to smile at that. It was a fifteen-minute bus ride from Sahara Square to the Pangolin Arms, but there were two blocks of walking involved, and he was fairly sure his partner hadn't packed an umbrella.

 

The fox pushed himself to his feet. He fixed one of his ears that had been flipped inside-out by the fall, and texted her a sympathetic sad face. She was going to be pretty miserable by the time she got here.

 

He checked his watch.

 

\-----

 

Judy was not fuming, because there was nobody particularly at fault for today--her colleagues had desperately needed the help, Nick had done too many hours of overtime this week already, and weather couldn't much be helped.

 

Which was not to say that she was not nursing a cocktail of frustrations, carefully concocted to be aimed at no one in particular. She was a nice bunny from the country, after all.

 

By the time she'd reached the bus stop she was already soaked to the bone. She'd already been in civilian clothes when Bogo had asked her to stay late, and was beginning to regret not changing back into her water-resistant uniform. Doubly so when the anteater bus driver shouted in her face for not having her change ready.

 

Judy padded over to a seat a ways away from him and hopped up onto it, flinching at the audible squelch of her jeans against the upholstery. She glanced at her phone and the sad face text she'd gotten a minute ago, and smiled.

 

She felt bad that Nick had had to stay at her apartment--she’d given him her only key, and he distrusted the city far too much to leave it hidden somewhere when it became clear she wouldn't be back in time to hang out with her friend. But the rabbit felt a twinge of selfish happiness that, at the very least, she'd see him one more time before going to sleep. It was a thought that heartened her when she disembarked from the bus, and back into the torrential rain, on her street.

 

It was past one in the morning, and there was no one out. The storm was getting worse. A heavy gust of wind caused her paws to lose purchase and she skittered off the sidewalk and into the gutter. Biting back words she knew better than to use, she pulled herself back to her feet and kept going, steadying herself against street signs and benches. She felt small underneath the looming buildings and their ribbons of dripping water, small against the wind, small beside the massive dark vehicles that occasionally splashed past her on the roadway. The city was at its least welcoming tonight.

 

Again she thought of Nick, who'd spent years of his life as a street fox, walking these same streets in worse storms, sometimes without a home to go to. Trusted and welcomed by no one. The bunny had a fleeting thought of him huddled beneath a bridge like the one she'd found him under a year ago, and her heart broke all over again.

 

Lost in her thoughts, Judy covered good ground, nearly walking entirely past the stoop of her building before catching herself and doubling back. She hustled up the stairs and into the modest protection of the building’s recessed doorway, hitting the keypad code to unlock the metal gate.

 

Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. The building still had power, for now--she could see lights on inside--but the 30-year-old electronic lock looked to have given out. Shaking the water out of her paws, she hauled out her phone again, dialing her partner.

 

It rang twice, three times before he picked up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Nick, it’s me.”

 

“Hey, Carrots! How's life?”

 

“Listen! The lock's broken down here. Can you come let me in?”

 

“Sure. I was just getting ready to head home--I can give you your key. Just a minute.”

 

He hung up, and she waited. Another flash of lightning lit up the street, awash in rainwater. She thought about inviting him to stay. It was cold and wet and he had a longer trip home than she did, and maybe there was space in her bed, and it wouldn't be weird, like those times she'd very accidentally fallen asleep on him and he'd out an arm around her, and--

 

The metal clank of the gate opening caused her to start. An orange head poked out.

 

“Carrots, you look like a mess.”

 

“Nick!”

 

She rushed to hug his middle, flinging water all over the vestibule and babbling apologies into his shirt.

 

“I'm so sorry you had to wait they needed extra people and nobody else was going home so I didn't and I know we were going to watch a movie and we can totally do that another time and--”

 

“It's okay, it's okay. I'm fine.” He chuckled. “You look awful, though. Here's your key. You should get upstairs.”

 

“What about you? Are you going out in this?”

 

“I called a Zuber. I'll be okay.”

 

“If you want to stay, I can--I can sleep on the floor…”

 

“No way. You need your beauty sleep.”

 

“If you're sure.”

 

“ _ Really _ need your--”

 

“Okay, okay. Call me if you change your mind. I'll keep my phone on.”

 

“Thanks, Carrots.”

 

She left him there, smirking in the lobby, as she boarded the elevator and poked her floor number. On balance, it had been less warm and comforting an encounter than she'd imagined. He'd deftly pivoted around her offer to stay, and they hadn't said much. She wondered if he was mad about the late night, after all.

 

The elevator dinged at her floor. The hallway was dark and freezing, with all the lights off. She loped down the hallway to her room, using her phone for light and shivering slightly. Her welcome mat remained blessedly unstolen (to Nick's eternal surprise), and she wiped the gutter mud off her paws as best she could. Fumbling with cold fingers, she fit the key in the lock and opened the door.

 

A draft of warm air hit her face, and she hurried in and thumped the door shut behind her, collapsing against it with relief. Nick had left the heater running.

 

She looked around the room, eyes widening. Nick had left her pajamas, freshly folded and laid out on her bed. There was a towel draped across the radiator (unsafe, but at the moment she didn't care). At her desk, their paperwork was sitting in two neat stacks. The electric kettle was sitting beside, steaming with a mug set beside it for tea.

 

“Nick, what--”

 

Her ears went red under her fur. She was feeling warmer inside than out, all of a sudden, with a dumb little smile creeping across her face.

 

\-----

 

Nick sat in the back of the Zuber, watching the rain streak by on the windows. The driver seemed uncomfortable with him, but that was fine. Nick was going to tip generously anyway.

 

His phone buzzed.

 

_ Nick _

 

_ What's up Carrots? Warming up? _

 

_ These clean clothes _

 

_ Yes? _

 

_ DID U GO THROUGH MY LAUNDRY _

 

He laughed out loud at that, startling the driver.

 

_ Love you too Carrots _

 

Nearly a minute passed before he got another text.

 

_ Thank you <3 _

 


End file.
